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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22554238">18/12/18: performance art</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/excelsi_or/pseuds/excelsi_or'>excelsi_or</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>to a boy i love right now [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:02:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,517</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22554238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/excelsi_or/pseuds/excelsi_or</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The winter performance is coming up and she doesn't know why Jihoon hasn't invited her to go.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>to a boy i love right now [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1252010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>18/12/18: performance art</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This isn't my favourite piece I've written for this one, but it flowed with the rest of the story so I figured I'd just leave it.<br/>Gonna try to finish this series by the end of the year to get it out of my system. :)</p><p>The next one is also very, very short so I just added it into the end. Hope you guys enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>December 18</em>
</p><p>With sunlight in her eyes, she wakes. She’s warm and is in no rush to move. As she starts to come to consciousness, her surroundings start to register. There’s a blanket over her and a sleeping Jihoon with his arms around her. The one that had been cradling her the night before is sprawled behind her, his right arm now resting in the dip in her side. She pulls back a bit to take in what he really looks like in his room.</p><p>His dark hair is sprawled across his grey sheets. Even in his sleep, his eyes are sharp, angled. The boy breathes in pout, and the slight upturn in his lips makes him look amused. She looks around for any sense of the time, wondering why she’s still here anyway.</p><p>Jihoon’s not letting go and she can’t move. Gently, she presses her lips against his, giving him butterfly kisses again and again. When he kisses her back, she stops and he rolls onto his back. This gives her the space to find her phone and check the time.</p><p>“I should get home,” she sighs. “I have a study session at noon.” On her elbows, she watches Jihoon try to decide if he’s going to wake with her or go back to sleep. She chuckles and kisses the side of his neck before getting up. She rolls off the bed and stretches.</p><p>“Did Mingyu not come home?”</p><p>Jihoon must decide he’s going to get up, because he wiggles his way into a sitting position. He leans back against the wall and she watches him carefully. “He did. It was late though.” Adorably, he rubs his eyes with the backs of his hands. “You’d already been sleeping for three hours. I didn’t want to wake you then.”</p><p>“And the blanket?”</p><p>“You’re a log in your sleep,” Jihoon chuckles. He ruffles his hair and stretches his arms over his head. “You’re not mad?”</p><p>“That you let me sleep all night?” She shakes her head and leaves the room. “No, Jihoonie. I’m not mad.”</p><p>She goes into the kitchen to look for food. On the fridge door is the now crumpled notice about the winter performance that Mingyu must have put back up. Her eyes skim over it, but she says nothing. Snagging a yogurt that Mingyu has stocked specifically for her, she makes no comment about the performance as Jihoon pads towards her. He stands by the door wrapped in the blanket they’d used last night. He’ll probably go back to sleep for a few more hours.</p><p>“I’ll see you, hmm?” she hums.</p><p>Jihoon nods and walks her to the door. She checks her pockets for her phone and doesn’t find it. She turns, about to say that she left it on the bed, when Jihoon holds it out to her. When she goes to grab it, Jihoon tucks it back into the blanket.</p><p>She laughs in confusion.</p><p>Jihoon leans forward to kiss her goodbye and the phone finds its way into her palm. “Bye. Have a good day today.”</p><p>She hesitates for a moment, but smiles. “You too, Jihoonie.”</p><p> </p><p>“So should I be concerned that he hasn’t even mentioned it to me?” she asks Jeonghan during their study session.</p><p>He chews the back of his pencil. “He must know that you know it’s coming up,” Jeonghan answers. “Your best friend is <em>in</em> the show. I have no idea why he wouldn’t have told you already.”</p><p>“So is that a yes to being concerned?” She stops writing, because she’s not even focused on the problem that they’re working through. “I haven’t had any reason to be concerned with Jihoon yet.”</p><p>“I mean, every relationship has its bumps in the road.” Jeonghan puts his pencil down. “But I agree. You and Jihoon work well together.”</p><p>“Seungkwan says it’s because we both know what we want.”</p><p>Jeonghan nods. “You’re both no nonsense people, but you’re more… social than Jihoon.”</p><p>She puts both her hands dramatically on the table between them. “You’re giving me mixed signals about whether I should be concerned or not.”</p><p>“I don’t think you should really be concerned, but if you are, why don’t you just ask him about it?” Jeonghan pauses. “Why <em>haven’t</em> you asked him?”</p><p>“I did last night. He crumpled the reminder in his hand and then didn’t want to talk about it.”</p><p>“Huh.” Jeonghan mulls over the situation. “It seems weird that he wouldn’t want you to go.”</p><p>She buries her face in her hands, tapping her fingers on her forehead. “I just don’t want to freak him out. He’s been stressed lately, trying to finish up his songs in time. The boys have all done their parts and Jihoon’s kinda just left… trying to put it all together and clean it for them.”</p><p>Jeonghan nods. “Yeah. Seungcheolie says that Jihoon gets mad when other people are in the studio with him during finals time. They’ve learned to just leave him be.”</p><p>“What if he doesn’t want me there?” she asks suddenly.</p><p>Jeonghan shakes his head. “You’re silly. Of course he’d want you there. He adores you.”</p><p>She snorts. “That doesn’t mean he would want me there.”</p><p>Jeonghan sighs. “I don’t know. I think the best thing to do would be to talk to him.”</p><p> </p><p>Well, she decided it wasn’t the best course of action. Jihoon during confrontations scares her slightly. He’s never mean to her, and typically they’re mature during disagreements, but this is something he’s blatantly trying to hide from her and she has no idea why. She knows how important the winter performance is. Hansol’s parents take the day off work to be with him to calm his nerves. She usually gets tired partway through the show and has to leave, but now she knows more of the participants. But if Jihoon doesn’t want her there, is it okay to go?</p><p>“Maybe he’s scared for you to hear the music he’s making,” Seungkwan says when she brings it up at dinner.</p><p>She shakes her head. “But I hear it in the studio. He plays new music for me all the time.”</p><p>“Maybe he gets stage fright and he doesn’t want to be embarrassed in front of you.”</p><p>She tips her head both ways, toying with the idea. She quickly dismisses it though and puts a piece of bulgogi in her mouth. “I think he’d have good stage presence.”</p><p>“Maybe he thinks you’re bad luck and he doesn’t want to ruin his chance at landing a good company spot somewhere in the future.”</p><p>Her face deadpans. If looks could kill, Seungkwan would be a dead man. He laughs. “I’m trying to lighten the mood, calm down.”</p><p>“You’re being honest and I’m annoyed at myself for wondering if it’s true,” she grumbles. “Maybe I just won’t go. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”</p><p>“Right. Besides, aren’t you going home for the holidays that day anyway?”</p><p>“Yeah,” she reaches for her water, “my last exam is on that day too.”</p><p>“There you go. You’ll be really busy.” Seungkwan waves his chopsticks in the air, dismissing any more discussion of her worries. “Things are fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean you’re not going?” Hansol demands as she leads him to the restaurant where Jihoon often takes her. They’d finished their exams at the same time. “Noona, you always come.”</p><p>“Jihoon doesn’t want me there.”</p><p>Hansol’s face scrunches up in confusion. “Why wouldn’t he want his girlfriend to be there?”</p><p>She shrugs, watching her step as they cross campus. She’s slipped on all the ice on the walkways at least four times today. She isn’t planning on breaking her neck any time soon. “He hasn’t even mentioned it to me.”</p><p>“Maybe he thinks that I’m inviting you?” Hansol guesses.</p><p>“But I don’t think he knows that I go every year,” she explains. “Yes, we’re best friends, but it doesn’t seem like Jihoon to consider stuff like that.”</p><p>Hansol frowns, thinking hard. She has to grab his elbow to make sure he takes a wide berth around an ice sheet. “Well I have a ticket for you.”</p><p>“I’m not going if Jihoon doesn’t want me there.”</p><p>“But <em>I</em> want you there. And so does everyone else. Mingyu hyung is excited for you to see the performance. And Soonyoung hyung says that you’ll be disappointed if they perform badly, so they’re practicing extra hard.” Hansol swings his backpack to his front. She watches him unzip it and dig around for something. She wants to scold him for being careless; he could slip and die, but she doesn’t. Instead, she gently nudges him out of the way of danger spots and tugs him back onto the walkway when he passes around them.</p><p>Finally, he presents her with a ticket.</p><p>“I got you a free one. Please come.”</p><p>She sighs and takes it from him. The date is printed in black ink, the rest of the ticket in gold. There’s a sheen that catches the dying sunlight and she can see a man sitting at a piano if she tilts it a certain way.</p><p>Hansol begins whining, which if they weren’t alone he would never do. She pushes his shoulder, causing him to stumble back. His left foot catches on the ice and he starts to slip. Quickly, her hand snaps forward and grabs his wrist to right him.</p><p>His face has paled, as if his life had flashed before his eyes. Rolling her eyes, she links her arm through his. “Fine, I’ll come. It seems you’ll injure yourself if I don’t.”</p><p> </p><p>Exam. Pack. Performance.</p><p>Seungkwan stands beside her in line, his free ticket from Hansol in hand. “If the entire audience is everyone’s friends,” he looks at the young people and parent-aged humans around, “aren’t all the tickets free?”</p><p>She chuckles. “Well they aren’t supposed to make a profit.” She shows her ticket to the usher at the door and he waves her through. They find their seats near the front, just close enough that they’ll be able to see, not so close that they’ll break their necks.</p><p>“Wow, look at these center seats,” Seungkwan whispers.</p><p>She snorts as she slips out of her coat. “You say this as if he doesn’t get us good seats every year.” She’d first met Seungkwan at Hansol’s first winter performance. Just like every year, Hansol’s parents are next to her and they exchange greetings. Seungkwan does the same and they fall into easy conversation until the lights begin to dim.</p><p>Hansol forewarned her that everyone she wanted to see would be at the tail end of the show. “Apparently, we’re good this year.”</p><p>The first half is boring, a lot of first and second years who haven’t quite learned where they fit in the music department. She finds her head falling to Seungkwan’s shoulder. She tries her best not to fall asleep, aware that the acts can see her. When the intermission starts, Hansol’s mother nudges her leg.</p><p>“You should go get something to eat,” his mother chuckles. “You’ll be asleep before Hansol gets on stage.”</p><p>Upon return though, the second half picks up a lot. Seungkwan whispers in her ear when a shorter guy with a fedora comes on stage. He does a Michael Jackson inspired performance, all his tributes to the King of Pop extremely accurate. Seungkwan informs her that this is the guy that her boyfriend finds irritating. She tips her head, wondering why, but deciding she’ll never know.</p><p>When Hansol gets on stage with Seungcheol, Wonwoo, and Mingyu, she’s upright in her seat. Her heart is beating in her chest from excitement and second-hand nerves. They’re in formation at the start, but once the chorus drops, they’re all over the stage. They attempt to hype up the crowd and their friends in the audience do not disappoint. She can’t help but laugh in her sat at the fan chant the other boys had come up with, Seungkwan chanting along.</p><p>Hansol’s eyes seek her out and a smile breaks his cool demeanour. The beat is familiar, likely from Jihoon making the beat while she slept or studied in the studio. She’s been blown away by Hansol’s rapping skills before, but alongside other people, there’s a different vibe. He seems a million times more comfortable, but that could also just be from experience.</p><p>His parents, who had been skeptical about his decision to major in music, seem more assured with every passing year. They still aren’t sure what type of career he could go into, though Hansol has informed her that he’s been offered auditions at various companies. He’s never gone.</p><p>“School first. It’ll make my parents happy.” And he was right.</p><p>As each act is called after Hansol’s, she listens carefully. She’s pleasantly surprised to hear Jihoon’s be the last name called, alongside Soonyoung and two Chinese names she’s never heard before.</p><p>All four make their way onto the stage, a piano for Jihoon at center stage. The three dancers take their places around him. Each boy starts with his head down and Jihoon starts the song with light piano trills.</p><p>“Has he played this for you?” Seungkwan asks as the song picks up.</p><p>“I’ve never heard this one.”</p><p>“It sounds like a break up song.”</p><p>The dancers fly around the stage in a flurry of arms and floor work. Jihoon’s voice trembles, as if he’s trying not to cry. The performance feels like one final push for somebody, as if the song is a call out of desperation.</p><p>And while she feels all the right emotions, the pain and the hope and the loss, she also feels pride. Not only is Jihoon the center of the song, when the orchestra is revealed behind him, they take none of the attention from him. As the song falls from its last crescendo, the entire room erupts in applause. Jihoon stands and moves to the front with Soonyoung and the two others. His eyes settle on her and widen in surprise before the front rows block her during the standing ovation.</p><p>The rest of the acts join them onstage and everyone bows to all sections of the university auditorium. The emcee returns and bids them a good night. A beat passes before the lights come back on. She checks her watch and calculates that there’s one train she can catch in the next thirty minutes.</p><p>“We gotta go,” Seungkwan says, as if reading her mind, “if you want to make the next train.”</p><p>She peers up at the stage where she can see Jihoon surrounded by a lot of people. His eyes keep darting to the audience, clearly unsure of where he’d seen her. “Yeah, let’s go.”</p><p>She turns to Hansol’s parents. “Tell Hansol that he was amazing.” She gives them hugs. “I have to catch the train to see my family.”</p><p>They wish her a merry Christmas and Seungkwan leads the way back to the lobby. The sea of people leaving urges them forward, though a few try to push their way to the stage, likely to get photos with the performers they came to see. Once in the lobby, which takes a surprisingly long time, she hears her name and Seungkwan’s being called.</p><p>They both turn and she smiles at the collection of men that she’s met through Hansol (and Jihoon) standing in a clump to greet them. She glances at her watch again and grimaces.</p><p>“You’re really gonna cut it close, but don’t you want to say hi?” Seungkwan is already tugging her, knowing her answer. They hurry through the crowd towards them. The boys are also surrounded by admirers and friends who want to talk to them, but she passes her bag off to Seungkwan and ducks in and around to get to Hansol. Immediately, she throws her arms around him. Mingyu is on her other side and wraps one arm around his waist, her other hand falling into Hansol’s.</p><p>“The rap was so good!” she exclaims. “It was well worth the wait.”</p><p>“Whose part was your favourite?” Mingyu asks.</p><p>She ponders her answer and nods. “I really liked Won—” Before she can even finish her sentence, she smells Wonwoo’s cologne and then feels a weight around her shoulders.</p><p>“Hah, told you. It was a killer verse,” Hansol says to him.</p><p>She laughs. “It was all amazing. The rhythm was good.” She squeezes Hansol’s hand. “You better give me a copy of that song for Christmas.”</p><p>Hansol smiles his toothy smile and nods his head.</p><p>Suddenly, her hand is yanked out of Hansol’s by Seungkwan, bag still over his shoulder. “Noona, you’re gonna be late.”</p><p>“Train station,” she informs Hansol. She gives Mingyu a squeeze before patting Wonwoo’s stomach with her now free hand. She catches Hansol around the neck in another hug, his hands snaking around her waist quickly.</p><p>“Merry Christmas, noona.”</p><p>Then Seungkwan has her wrist death-gripped in his hand so he won’t lose her as he tugs her to the exit. That is until someone grabs her free hand and gives it a hard tug. She yelps in surprise and turns, coming face-to-face with Jihoon.</p><p>“Jihoon.”</p><p>“Where are you going?” he asks.</p><p>“Home,” she states, motioning towards the bag on Seungkwan’s shoulder. The younger man is itching to get going. “I’m gonna be late if I don’t—”</p><p>“We need to go, noona, seriously,” Seungkwan insists.</p><p>Jihoon laces his fingers between hers. “I’ll take her.”</p><p>It’s then that she notices he’s already dressed in his coat. “You’re not going to stay to talk with everyone?”</p><p>“I’ll catch up with them later.” He looks to Seungkwan. “There’s an after party at Hansol’s. He wants to know if you’re going.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, I was going to go after—”</p><p>Jihoon nods his head in the direction of everyone else and Seungkwan takes the hint. He throws his arms around her, slides the bag strap onto her shoulder, and wishes her a merry Christmas. Over his shoulder, Seungkwan promises not to ruin their apartment, and then she loses his dark head of hair in the crowd.</p><p>Jihoon pulls her attention back to him. “Ready to go?”</p><p>“Oh.” She adjusts her overnight bag on her shoulder. “Uhm, yeah.”</p><p>Carefully, Jihoon leads the way out of the auditorium and they hurry towards the bus stop.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Jihoon asks when they take a seat at the back of the bus.</p><p>She blinks at his tone. There’s no aggression in Jihoon’s voice, only awe. “I didn’t think you wanted me there.”</p><p>“Why wouldn’t I have wanted you there? I—” Jihoon stops himself. “I… I’m happy you were there.”</p><p>“But you wouldn’t tell me that it was happening,” she explains. “When I asked you about it weeks ago, you wouldn’t talk about it.” She shrugs. “So I just left it.”</p><p>Jihoon shakes his head, his gloved hand squeezing hers. “I didn’t want to stress you out more by adding something else to your plate. I didn’t want you to feel as if you had to come.”</p><p>“I guess I should have told you I always go,” she chuckles. “Hansol gets me a ticket every year.”</p><p>Jihoon’s head falls to her shoulder. She pecks the top of his head. “Did you like it?” His voice is small, clearly worried about her reaction.</p><p>“Your song was beautiful.”</p><p>Quietly, Jihoon tells her the story behind the song. A few weeks back he’d woken up from a nightmare where she’d left and never returned without a reason why. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe.” He exhales a long breath. It’s one of the most honest things he’s ever said to her.</p><p>“Was that the time you asked me to spend the night with you in the studio?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>She gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “Well that explains why you were so clingy.”</p><p>She’d spent most of the evening in his lap at his insistence that evening. Being a messy studier, she was worried she’d be in his way. Her papers and books would be everywhere and she had told him that she didn’t understand why she couldn’t just sit on the floor at the coffee table like usual. But he insisted it would be fine and hadn’t complained. At the time, it hadn’t been so unusual to her. She figured that maybe she hadn’t been paying him much attention.</p><p>Jihoon presses a kiss to her shoulder, though she can’t feel it through her coat. Even though he’s facing her, he refuses to meet her gaze. “I adore you. I hope you know that. I wanted you there.”</p><p>She pecks his forehead, brushing some of his hair off his face. “You really <em>are</em> getting soft, Jihoonie.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he hums, “that’s your fault.” He gazes up at her and she tips her head in wonderment. Jihoon doesn’t explain, but a sweet smile grows on his face before he rests his head back on her shoulder.</p><p>“I adore you too, you dope,” she whispers.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>away</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>December 27</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jihoon (1:52)</strong>
</p><p>I miss you.</p><p>
  <em>December 28</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jihoon (00:01)</strong>
</p><p>I miss you.</p><p>
  <em>December 29</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jihoon (23:49)</strong>
</p><p>I miss you.</p><p> </p>
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